


What we do in the shadows

by MurderBallads



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: M/M, Peaky Blinders AU, Sucking & Biting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 13:18:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19746544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurderBallads/pseuds/MurderBallads
Summary: Grace was dead.Grace was really dead.Well, she had been dead before. But this time was different.





	What we do in the shadows

Grace was dead.

His beautiful mistress and wife of twenty seven nights laid on the floor in a slowly growing pool of blood. Like a rare bird shot with an arrow of a savage in a final act of abomination. Heresy among the unbelievers.

Even in death she looked like a work of art, something worth preserving in temples or galleries, just to have people come and say: “Injustice incarnated.” Her pale arms outstretched, unblemished neck bared for all the world to see, her breasts– 

Thomas Shelby closed his eyes as if trying to stop the train of thoughts. When he opened them again, his face was blank.

Grace was really dead.

Well, she had been dead before. But this time was different.

He licked his lips, focusing on the wooden cross sticking out from her upper torso. There was an obscene, slurping sound coming from behind his back, getting louder and louder with every passing minute until it stopped so abruptly, he almost didn’t notice.

“It’s done.” Polly appeared next to him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her skirt was gushing red. “Bloody hunters.”

Thomas hummed and started fumbling through his pockets, allowing Polly to pour her heart out:

“I told you that bedding one of them was a bad idea. Wedding one of them was already a _fucking_ bad idea. But _turning_ one of them must have been the pinnacle of idiocy in this family and that’s really something taking into consideration your three times-damned father who at one point in his life after death decided to breed woodpeckers. My deepest condolences, by the way. I miss her already.”

Her voice echoed between the cold walls. Thomas hummed again and put an unlit cigarette in his mouth. Arthur joined them, looming in the dim light like a ghost. Tommy didn’t fail to notice a sharp intake of breath coming from his undead brother. The air was thick with the smell of blood and, hell, just because someone wasn’t allowed to eat, didn’t mean they couldn’t at least take a look at the menu, right? Tommy snorted. And yet _he_ was considered the one with a crazy wife, right. Fucking Linda and her vegetarians.

“Checked outside, there is no more fuckers around. He must’ve come from London alone.” 

Chester Campbell’s carcass was lying where Polly left it, with an enormous gap in place previously occupied by his larynx. She now brushed her front teeth with a fingernail and pulled out something that looked like a scrap of human skin. 

“Well? Are you gonna say anything, dearest?”

“Back when _he_ still had some vocal cords,” Thomas replied, crushing the cigarette with one of his fangs and waving his hand in the general direction of Campbell’s body. “Back then he told me that my marriage wouldn’t even last a month. And he kept his word. It’s only fitting that whatever I say now, will also come true. Arthur, give me your gloves.”

“Good quality, kid. Cow leather. But be careful.”

Thomas put them on and knelt next to Grace’s body. With one swift movement he pulled the sharpened cross out from her chest.

“Who did you say sent him here?”

“London. Father Hughes and the House of Abraham. Those fuckers sit deep in Westminster’s pockets. Got resources.”

“Good.” Thomas covered the cross with what used to be Grace’s favorite shawl and put it in one of his coat pockets.

“And _what_ are you doing exactly?”

“I want it on my wall, Pol.” He gathered Grace into his arms and finally stood up. “I think I’ve just had a revelation.”

“Which means?”

“London will burn.” He scanned the entire building with his gaze. “And so will this place. Make sure to finish before the sunrise.”

“Pol,” said Arthur, once they were alone. “Why was breeding woodpeckers such a bad idea?”

She rolled her eyes.

“They are not nocturnal and they have a very complicated relationship with trees. Or wooden objects in general, such as our coffins, when presented with no other option.”

Arthur furrowed his brows.

“But you sleep in a sarcophagus.”

“As you can see, I’ve learned from your father’s mistakes.” She rolled up her sleeves. “Now stop talking and help me spread the fire. If the vampire hunters back in London are supposed to get the message, we have to sign it _properly_.”

~*~

“London got the message.”

“I know. Hughes’ people pulled down Inspector Campbell’s body from the cross themselves.” Tommy was in his office chair, with a glass filled with red thick liquid in hand. Two candles, sitting at the opposite sides of the desktop, were the only source of light, illuminating his features and making them look even sharper.

“That bastard got the nerve to hunt you down in the chapel you got married in, he had it coming.”

“Campbell was enraged because I had managed to seduce a vampire hunter, _his_ vampire hunter, and then made her my wife. But Hughes was enraged because we dared to make our blasphemous relationship official in the house of the lord…” Tommy smiled with a smile that never reached his eyes. He raised the glass and took a sip.

Johnny Dogs nodded and finally sat in front of him.

“You were always like this, Tommy.” He smiled fondly. “Always different from the rest. The first to play with the fire. The first unafraid to go into a church. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you when she died.”

“When she got murdered, you mean.” Tommy licked his blood-stained lips. “You are my familiar and my friend. You were doing your job, as I ordered you to. So, tell me know. What did you find out?”

“In London I met a vampire who was kind enough to show me around.” He laid the city’s map in front of Thomas. There were several red circles around Westminster. “That’s where Hughes and the House of Abraham hold their regular meetings. Campbell was just one of many, Tommy.”

“That’s to be expected,” he replied and pulled the map closer. “And who was this cooperative vampire?”

“His name is Darby Sabini. He runs a gang in Clerkenwell.”

“An Italian, then. You know that I don’t really trust Italians.”

“Desperate times, desperate measures, Tommy. His gang is being terrorized by Hughes’ men as well.”

“Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer,” murmured Thomas and stood up. He came up to the window and downed the rest of his drink. “What else did he tell you?”

“Hughes has wolves.”

“ _He has what?_ ”

Thomas turned back so fast, Johnny almost fell off his chair. His eyes were stained red, just like his lips a few moments before. Dogs felt as if they no longer belonged to his boss, but rather to a feral beast set loose after years of imprisonment. His voice became nothing but a vicious hiss adorned with a crown of sharp fangs:

“Werewolves work for the House of Abraham? Don’t tell me it’s the fucking Camden Town gang.”

It had already been cold in the office, but now the temperature seemed to have dropped even more drastically.

“Y-yes. I’ve been told they are led by–”

“Alfie Solomons.” The glass shattered between Thomas’ pale fingers.

There was a moment of heavy silence and Johnny used it to take a look at his boss’s hand. He spotted only one drop of blood – a clear sign that Thomas didn't dine properly yet. Surprisingly, this situation seemed to somehow put him at ease because his fangs retracted and eyes turned back to their normal blue. His outbursts of anger were rare and, at least according to Dogs, scary as fuck.

“Do-do you want me to go back there, Tommy?”

“Yes, first thing in the morning,” he replied, aloof yet again, and started rummaging through his drawers as if nothing had happened. Finally, he pulled out a gun and a single silver bullet. “Tell Sabini I’m going to meet him in three nights. Then try to find Ada. I need to make some preparations.”

“Preparations for what?”

Tommy loaded the gun and, raising it slowly, aimed it at the darkness behind the window.

“For a funeral, of course. The wolves are going to burn, too.”

~*~

Ollie cried out and spilled all over the desktop.

“I really hope you didn’t aim at the fuckin’ documents, mate,” growled Alfie, pounding into him furiously several more times from behind, and coming shortly after with an even louder growl. “These are some, uh, very important statistics right there, right?”

Ollie whimpered as Alfie pulled out almost immediately, leaving him sore, weak in the knees and with marks all over his hipbones. Solomons smirked at his masterpiece, only a little breathless, and then spanked him, eliciting yet another delicious sound.

“Now, now, boy. It’s not your first time, so don’t be greedy, yeah? Clean yourself up and get back to work.” Alfie put his pants on, not wasting any time. “I don’t have to show you the door, yeah? Busy day. Don’t even try to disturb me.”

“You are a monster,” mumbled Ollie, but smiled cheerfully the moment Alfie’s fingers creased his cheek.

“That’s why you adore me so much. Because I’m a monster and have a stamina to match. Now, do I have to tell you again–”

“Get out, yeah, yeah.” Ollie was already behind the door, barely dressed but obedient. Alfie cracked his neck a few times and looked at the mess on his desk.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

He’ll have to rewrite everything. Or better yet, make Ollie rewrite it, apologize and then suck him off, preferably not exactly in this order, but after a hard day of work any will do. He scratched his beard, lazily toying with the idea of calling it a day and taking Cyril for a walk down the river.

“Alfie.” Ollie was already on his way back. “I’m sorry, I–”

“You have exactly three seconds to explain yourself.”

“One of the wolves came back. He says some Birmingham leeches are sniffing around our warehouses. Apparently they made a deal with Sabini and are coming after us, I thought it’s important and that you should know as soon as possible, do you want to talk to him? I really–”

“Mate.” Alfie grabbed him by the face and forced to fall silent by squeezing lightly. “Didn’t you mother even teach you how to shut the fuck up? Birmingham you said, eh?”

Ollie nodded almost feverishly.

“Did the wolf happen to mention someone named Shelby?” More nodding. “Perfect, thank you for your cooperation, mate. Now please kindly fuck off and tell everyone we’re having a fucking important meeting in thirty minutes, eh? Highest priority, right?”

His eyes turned to gold as he watched Ollie flee his office. Alone yet again, he sat behind his desk and opened a drawer. Once he got his hands on a gun and a very, very special wooden bullet, his smile got wicked.

“So little Tommy Shelby is coming home. How lovely.”

“Alfie?” Ollie was lurking just behind the door.

“What the fuck are you still doing here?!”

“Is this Thomas Shelby guy… the vampire you used to like back in the day?”

“A vampire I used to like back in… What the fuck are you smoking, lad? Tommy Shelby is my damned husband.”


End file.
